On the Rocks
by resoundingdeluge
Summary: What begins as a quiet morning for Weiss in the dining car of the Argus Limited turns into a heated conversation with someone unexpected.


The dining car of the Argus Limited was strangely silent. Weiss Schnee sat alone in a private booth, lost in thought and still wearing pajamas as she stared out the window, enjoying the quiet of the early morning. She was wearing only slippers, and a long dressing gown of white silk, her hair flowing freely down her back as she sat in the plush, comfortable seat of the booth.

The sun still hadn't crested the snowcapped mountain visible in the distance, and so, the trees outside of the glass appeared as little more than strange, shadowed shapes whipping past at blazing speed. The contrast of the jagged, chaotic imagery with the quietude of the train car was comforting, and the former heiress allowed herself the faintest smile, content with the ambiance. Only the gently swaying light above her table allowed Weiss to make out her surroundings within the car, and its muted, circular glow barely reached into the aisle beside her.

Quite suddenly, the illusion of peace was shattered as the door at the head of the car slid open. From her seat, Weiss was unable to see who had entered and disrupted her solitude, but she could hear the rattling of wheels making their way down the center of the aisle. Perhaps peace and satisfaction could still be had within the noise, after all.

A portly waiter pushed a dining cart into view from the shadows, and greeted Weiss with a smile barely visible beneath his thick, brown mustache. The man was balding, and dressed in a smart white button-down shirt and black slacks, the look topped off by a black velvet bowtie. What little hair he had left was brushed into a meticulous comb over. Weiss returned his smile, though she couldn't help but feel a little sad. Something about the man reminded her of home.

"Can I get you anything, sweetheart?"

Weiss' smile faltered ever so slightly- another comforting illusion was broken, this time by the man's voice. It was far, far too high pitched for him to remind her of Klein anymore, and his accent was nothing like the Atlesian lilt that her former butler had always spoken with.

"…coffee, please. Black." Weiss gracefully knit her fingers together before settling her hands atop the table. Perhaps this one last attempt at a simple comfort wouldn't become another disappointment with which to start the day.

"Of course." The waiter pulled a fresh cup from below the cart, and brought it up to the top level, where a large, steel cylinder stood waiting. He lowered the cup beneath the attached nozzle, and began to fill it with a steaming, black liquid. The scent alone was enough to pull a content sigh from Weiss, who gratefully accepted the small cup.

"Thank you. Have a pleasant day."

"And you as well, ma'am." With another mostly-hidden smile, the man nodded, and pushed his cart down the aisle, in search of another to serve. The rattling of wheels grew faint, and Weiss rose the cup level with her chin, before beginning to gently blow.

Satisfying wisps of steam fled from the surface of the liquid, spiraling and looping away from her in the cold air of the morning. Weiss closed her eyes, and brought the porcelain to her lips to take the first rejuvenating sip of her favorite beverage.

"You know, someone your age really shouldn't drink so much coffee. It's no wonder you're up so early; your entire bloodstream's probably caffeine by now." The voice was gruff and gravely, from somewhere ahead in the shadows. It was also familiar… and unwelcome.

Weiss opened her eyes and gently lowered the cup down to the table, as she immediately gave up on having a peaceful day. The third time's the charm, after all. In this particular case, it was a certain, unfortunate _kind_ of charm.

The little circle of comforting light brought forth the image of someone who was anything _but_ comforting to Weiss. Qrow Branwen lazily shuffled his way down the aisle, fully dressed and with hands in his pockets as he approached. Somehow, he looked even scruffier than usual, his hair a bit tousled and beard a little too long to be called a five o' clock shadow anymore.

"I've never had trouble sleeping before… recent events. I very much doubt that the coffee has much, if anything, to do with it."

 _And_ _ **you're**_ _one to talk about what I should and shouldn't drink_ , Weiss added, but only in her mind. Even though she had finally made the move to distance herself from Atlesian nobility, there was no reason to be rude.

Yet.

"Well, good for you, kid, but lack of sleep is probably something you should start getting used to, given how things have been going lately. This seat taken?" he asked, nonchalantly nodding to the cushioned surface across from Weiss.

In truth, she wanted to reject his company. Everything about that man made her skin crawl, from his rivalry with her sister, to his uncaring and defeatist attitude, to the stench of alcohol upon his breath that she could smell even then, before dawn. That train of thought, however, was interrupted with another. In times of crisis, a friendly face, however rough, was quite difficult to find. Whether she liked it or not, Qrow was to be one of her companions for the foreseeable future, and it only made sense to extend an olive branch.

Weiss offered a small smile, despite herself, and gestured a welcoming hand across the surface of the table and outward. "No, not at all. Please, join me."

"Well, aren't you sweet." Qrow lowered himself into the booth with the grace of a falling elephant, and braced his right arm along the top of the booth as he reclined, spreading himself out to take up the majority of the seat. "Your sister could learn a thing or two from you."

All of the etiquette training in Atlas couldn't have stopped Weiss' next words, as she spoke in a harsh, pointed tone through clenched teeth.

"My _sister_ has far too much else to worry about to be concerned with pleasantries and platitudes. Did you ever even…" she trailed off, letting the bile and volume of her voice die down, before raising her cup to take another sip. She hoped that the conversation could end there, or take another turn.

Little did she know that luck wasn't on her side.

"Did I ever even what, kiddo? Come on, lay it on me. No sense letting the air on this train get any more tense," he replied. Qrow began to drum his fingers against the wooden framing of the top of the booth. His nails, slightly too long for a male, began to rap against the surface, shredding slowly and methodically at Weiss' nerves. Suddenly, she began to feel very small.

"…did you ever even talk to her, after the two of you fought at Beacon? You could see how upset she was, with… with _whatever_ it is you were trying to do, there."

Qrow dragged his nails across the wood with one final, irritating noise that made the hairs on Weiss' neck stand on end. He hunched over, his necklace dangling mere inches above the table as he locked eyes with the girl.

"Nope. And what I was 'trying to do' is none of your business. Your family and I don't exactly play nice, though I'm sure she's given you an earful about all of that already."

Somehow, everything he said seemed targeted, from her point of view. Weiss looked down into her drink as she folded her arms, cupping her hands around her biceps in a vain attempt at a self-hug. She wanted to lash out, and claim that Winter was above verbally ripping into someone, no matter how unpleasant… but that wasn't quite the truth, nor was it the reason that Weiss had been left in the dark regarding her sister's encounter with Qrow.

"No, she hasn't. We… we don't get to speak, much. She's too busy, especially now." A hint of sadness trickled into her voice as she spoke. Perhaps letting some of her emotions show would make him uncomfortable enough to leave her in peace again. After all, Winter _never_ showed her emotions, and her antagonism with Qrow was plain to see.

Qrow made a noise unfamiliar to Weiss, and she flicked her eyes upward to look him over. He seemed oddly displeased, his mouth drawn into a thin line as he leaned back into his seat once again, his hands in his lap. A long silence fell between the two of them, broken only by the rattling of wheels approaching again from the opposite end of the car as before.

"…you not eating anything, kid? You know what they say about breakfast."

Weiss let out a heavy sigh, and gripped her cup once again. Her knuckles almost matched the color of the porcelain as she kept her eyes on him.

"I'm… not really hungry, right now," she replied in a defeated tone. "…and you?"

"Got mine right here," Qrow said, as he reached his right hand inside of his shirt. Weiss' stomach sank as he pulled the familiar silver flask from inside of his clothing. The same waiter that had approached Weiss earlier rolled up to the booth, and as he opened his mouth, Qrow waved him away with his free hand.

"No thanks. Maybe later on."

The waiter gave a curt nod, and wheeled on down the aisle as Qrow unscrewed the cap from his flask. He tipped the steel container up toward his mouth as he threw his head back, ready to indulge himself… though no liquid met his lips.

Qrow lowered the container in confusion, only to find a black, rotating seal with a familiar crest stoppering the top of the flask.

"Seriously? Now what's your problem? Did I hit a nerve?"

Weiss grit her teeth, her wintery eyes blazing as she made an attempt to stare him down.

" _Yes_ , you did. Qrow, it isn't even _dawn_ , and you think it wise to start drinking? We could be attacked at any moment aboard this train, and we're going to need you!"

"Yeah? And I'm going to need _this_ in order to function, and stay focused. You've got your coffee, I've got my whiskey. Fair trade, if you ask me," he replied, poking a finger against the seal that kept him from his drink.

"That isn't fair. I'm not using coffee to run away from my problems. From my _family_."

This time, it was Qrow's turn to glare daggers as he slammed the flask down onto the surface of the table.

"Yeah? Then what _do_ you use to help you deal with it? Or is that where the haughtiness and holier-than-thou attitude is coming from? All of that tension with no release valve leads to an explosion, snowflake. Get over it, and let me drink." Qrow lifted the flask once again, but instead of bringing it to his lips, he held it out and upside-down over Weiss' coffee. "Or maybe _you_ should start."

Almost immediately, Qrow leaned back, and drew the flask slowly toward himself as he looked over Weiss' face. Her arms were crossed again, and she looked at him with a glare more full of venom than any that Winter had ever offered him. The girl was _seething_ with rage, and the sight was unfamiliar and unexpected enough to make Qrow freeze in his awkward position, half-leaning, half-sitting across from her.

"My _mother_ ," she began, "spends every morning sitting out in the gardens, with a fluted glass and bottle of wine in her hands. She sits there at sunrise, staring out over the estate property, and _drinks_. When her supply runs low, a butler brings her another bottle. If I, or anyone else not on our wait staff, attempt to even get close to her, we're met with slurred, angry strings of profanity and disdain. This has gone on since I was a _child_ , Qrow. Most days, she doesn't even seem to know who I am, if I approach after she's started. Do not _ever_ do something like that again, and leave me, and my family, out of your personal issues."

Weiss put her hands down on the table and stood, as the seal atop Qrow's flask disappeared. She slid out of the booth and turned, before putting one foot forward and beginning to walk away.

"Weiss, _wait_."

The girl stopped her stride, but didn't turn around. Another long silence fell between them, before she dared to speak again, in a low tone.

"Why?"

"Because I'm an asshole," he said almost immediately. "I'm sorry. I crossed a line that I didn't know was there, and even without your family problems, it was still a stupid move. Come sit back down, before that guy in the dress shirt makes his way back here and makes this even more awkward. Please?"

Weiss rolled her eyes and folded her arms. Of _course_ this was more about saving face, than any sort of empathy. As she turned to face him again, though, doubt began to creep into Weiss' chest like an icy dagger.

The flask was gone, likely back inside of his shirt, and Qrow sat with one elbow upon the table, and his forehead cupped in his hand. He didn't look up at her, instead appearing quite enamored with the white, embossed tablecloth before him.

Weiss slowly made her way back into the booth and sank into the seat once again, looking a little worried.

It was Qrow's turn to sigh, before he spoke. The usual, almost hostile edge was completely absent from his voice, and he instead offered her a more sincere, thoughtful tone.

"My sister and I don't talk much, either. When we do, it's usually with swords. You saw her, back at the Academy. When you think about someone who fits the philosophy 'the ends justify the means', you usually picture somebody willing to do something that impacts somebody else in a negative way, but in the end, it all works out, right? With Raven, as long as 'the ends' involve her being alive, _any_ means are on the table. Up to and including trying to kill her own family. That means me. That _could_ also mean Yang. You're not the only one whose family is less than perfect."

The former heiress listened carefully to his words, and kept her voice soft and impartial as she replied.

"I know that, Qrow. I know that my familial problems don't make me special… but I _also_ know that drowning myself in alcohol isn't going to make them go away. I will _never_ touch that foul concoction. I've seen what it does to people I care about, and I can see what it's doing to you."

"I don't think you can, kid." Qrow lifted his head, a miserable look in his eyes. "It's not about making problems 'go away'. It's about being _just_ off balance enough to not have 'em at the forefront of my mind, every single day. It's not a perfect solution, but it lets me get my mind off of her."

"That may be somewhat true, but it also keeps your mind from being sharp enough to avoid pitfalls like _this_ one," Weiss replied coolly.

Qrow let out a small chuckle. "I wouldn't go blaming my actions on the drink, if I were you. You don't know how stupid I can be all on my own, sometimes."

"Funnily enough, I've heard your niece say the same thing."

"Yang _drinks_?" Qrow's brows raised, and he began to look uneasy.

"On occasion. You don't have a leg to stand on to tell her to stop. After all, where do you think she probably got the idea in the first place?" Weiss huffed.

Qrow made another noise of disgust, as he ran a hand through his hair.

"No, I guess I don't. Today sucks. I probably should've just left you to drink your coffee in peace, huh?"

Something stopped Weiss' immediate agreement, and she shifted uncomfortably in her seat as the waiter once again rolled past. He began a conversation with someone in another booth, signaling that the car would soon become an unsafe location for a discussion on the present level of seriousness.

"…no, actually. Maybe now, you'll understand a little bit better why I am the way I am."

"Weiss, I'm sorry."

The girl raised a hand and turned her head away as she began to speak. "You made an error in judgment. We all go too far when ribbing each other from time to time, and it doesn't make y-"

"No, I'm sorry that you don't get to speak to Winter, much. I'm sorry that your mother feels like someone that you don't even know, anymore. I hope you know that you carry yourself better than either of them, and you should be proud of the fact that at your age, you've made it out of such a disconnected family with your sanity and sense of self intact. Some people in situations like that… don't quite make it that far."

Weiss' mouth remained open slightly as she was interrupted mid-sentence, and her mind hadn't quite caught up enough to process his words as Qrow stood and cracked his neck. One last time, he caught her eyes, his own looking genuinely sympathetic.

"Maybe when we're not knee-deep in a mission like this, you and I can talk about this a little more. Without the alcohol and tension, next time. What do you say?"

Finally, Weiss let her mouth close again. "I… think that, maybe, doing so could benefit us both. Just… _please_ try to at least cut back on drinking, a bit? For me?"

Once again, Qrow chuckled as he slipped his hands back into his pockets. "No promises… but I'll try. We cool?"

The ghost of a smirk made its way to the edge of Weiss' lips.

"…yes. We're… 'cool'."

"Glad to hear it."

Qrow turned and began to make his way down the aisle. He passed the waiter and his cart as he went, and Weiss watched as the man made his way to the sliding door. Faint rays of light had made their way into the train car by then, allowing her to see as he slipped past the portal and into the next car. As he did, the gently swaying light over the last booth in the dining car blew, and rendered the doorway dark.

Weiss took up her coffee once again and sipped, finding it too cold to be worth drinking anymore. She pulled a face and set the coffee back down, as the waiter approached and rolled to a stop.

"Nothing for the gentleman, I presume?"

"No, unfortunately. He had some… issues, to attend to. I think I'd like to order breakfast, if I may."

"Of course, ma'am."

Perhaps the day wasn't a total loss, after all.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** I don't really have much to say about this one, other than not everything can be resolved in one conversation, and kindred spirits often come from unexpected places. Expect more one-shot content in the future.

 **-RD**


End file.
